


Missing Piece

by farfetched



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Minor panic attack, Pining Sawamura Daichi, Returning Home, suga is oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22120780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfetched/pseuds/farfetched
Summary: He's in a crowd of people.Why, then, does he feel lonely?This is college. This is living. Isn't it? Staying out late, drinking, making friends.But he's done all that. It doesn't feel like enough. Like he's missing something, like there is just- something he isn't getting.(Or: Suga realises something is missing, but he can't work out what. Through a late night phone call and an impromptu trip back to Karasuno, maybe he can work this out.)
Relationships: Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 138





	Missing Piece

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for brief implied alcohol consumption amongst adults and a brief minor panic attack.

The music is loud around him, so loud it's a physical presence, shaking the thick air he breathes. Flashing lights restrict his vision to bursts of time, writhing mass of bodies on the dance floor illuminated in sections, slowed down to still frame motions in strobe. It's pungent with scent, too; each and every one of his peers dowsed in perfume or aftershave, entwined with the smell of spilt drinks to make it feel as though he is trapped in an alcoholic flower shop. 

He's never liked flowers. 

He's stood to the side, steps leading down into the dance floor – although it looks more like a pit to him – and just watching. A drink has made its way into his hand at some point, a can of something he'd probably like if he was having it after summer volleyball practice, cool and refreshing on his parched tongue. As it is, he's had some already, and now it's warm, a flat bitterness that squirms down his throat. He's given up on it, holding it purely so nobody else gets him anything, because holding something means he has a reason to stay, a reason to not move and not dance. 

He'd rather it were a volleyball he's about to throw. He'd rather all this noise was a crowd, and the yelling of his teammates. _Nice serve, don't mind, nice kill_. Words that these people wouldn't even know, wouldn't recognise. Words that make him yearn for another time, something already gone. 

He has an impulse to throw the can into the crowd. See the arc of it, stopped at millisecond intervals, see if anyone would try to catch it, see if they do what he might and set it to an imaginary spiker, see if that would start something. Would there be an impromptu point of volleyball between all these strangers? No points lost because to hit the ground he'd have to be able to see it, and he can't, he doesn't think there's room. No points gained. No game to play, just the arc of something, anything in his hand, tumbling over the crowd in a serve. 

The thing is, would that make him happier than simply standing here? 

He has no right. No right at all. He's made friends. He's enjoying his classes, is up to date with the work. He's got people he talks to everyday, and a nice routine. He's eating fine. He goes home to see his family at the weekends sometimes, escaping the chaos of college. They're happy for him, with him. He's doing well. 

He's fine. 

He's absolutely fine. Nothing is wrong with his life, nothing important. Maybe his flatmates could put the milk away and tidy up a bit faster, but it's all minor. 

Something is missing. 

He doesn't know what, only knows that it's an absence that curls up next to his heart in his chest and presses on it, feeling as though there is an ever present ache. A lack of something that crawls up his throat when he's awake late at night. A turn to someone, something that isn't there, that he knows isn't there. 

He feels weirdly empty. 

He's ignored it, but he knows he's felt like this since he came to college. Since he left Karasuno. His three years there were hardly perfect. There were blood, sweat and tears, not always in that order or in any proportionality. There were arguments and losses and bruises that still echo, he remembers his chest covered in the yellow flush of healing after that week of diving drills they'd done, and the constant ache of hard work in his muscles. His hands and arms were always red, and depending on the accuracy of balls that day, his face often was. Trying to balance schoolwork and volleyball practice, staying up late to complete homework, getting up early to run in and play more. 

But he'd felt like he'd fit. Like there had been a niche with his name on it, between his teammates, a space he'd always been expected to be and always was, because he enjoyed occupying that space. Helping the others improve. Keeping their spirits high. Keeping the team going when things got hard, encouraging them all to try, and keep trying. Especially in third year when everything had just seemed to click, Asahi returning and Noya joining him, Hinata and Kageyama's endless competition pulling the rest of them to speeds they'd never reached. Joking with Ennoshita on the bench. Yelling encouragement from the side, the thrill of getting swapped in, helping to score points, changing things up. 

Generally, being a part of something. 

Perhaps that’s just what it was; he doesn't really feel like a part of this. He's not clicked with anyone in quite the same way. Not found himself grinning at somebody just because he happened to see them across the hall, no reason to speak to them except wanting to. 

He gets along with a lot of people. 

But none of them _know_ him. 

Sure he smiles at them, but it’s never with the exhilarating thrill of victory. He's never eaten with them, tears dripping down his face because it feels so bad, not embarrassed because they all feel it. He's never felt that rush of a point scored, a perfect set up. That camaraderie. He seems to have left it behind in Karasuno. 

Maybe that's why he feels lonely. 

Snorting to himself, he spins on his heel. How can he be lonely in a crowd of people? But he is. And the more he thinks about it, the more weight the thought gains, until it drags him down, clashing with the cacophony around him. He isn't sure if he wants to laugh, cry, or neither, but whatever he wants to do, he doesn't want to do it here. 

Keeping his head down as he goes, he finds a table to put the drink on. He shuffles past people, inebriated and sober, dancing to varying degrees, shouting at each other in their efforts to be heard. None of them take any notice of him. 

He feels very alone, considering he is surrounded. 

Somehow he makes it out, the cooling autumn air stinging his hot skin, rapidly starting to chill him. His shirt clings to him unpleasantly, but the breeze and the blessed quiet – relatively, at least – is welcome, and he shifts away from the pulse of the club, further until he can't hear it. 

He doesn't want to be at home. Home is truly alone. Home is a confirmation of everything he's thought. 

So he merely sits where he is, on a kerb of a sloped road, the rest of the city off in the distance, lights flickering like the stars above. Sighing heavily, he is disappointed to find it not yet cold enough to condense his breath, which would have been something to watch at least. 

He has absolutely no idea what to do with himself. 

Home is an unpleasant option, but there is nowhere else. At whatever time it is – just after one in the morning, he finds his phone to say as he pulls it from his pocket – there won't be any easy transport anywhere. Japan is asleep. He ought to be too, and yet- 

Yet here he sits. Totally alone. Not even any cars are passing, nothing but the lights of the city around him to tell him he’s in a world with people at all. 

His phone sits in his hand like a dead weight. He knows the conversations on it, text that means something and yet conveys so little. He can't put it into words, being here. Losing something he can't explain. Wanting, more than anything else in the world, to go back in time, or forwards; to a place he knows he belongs. A place he could call home, that doesn’t need to have four walls or a door. It merely needs to be a space he would happily occupy. Karasuno Volleyball Team had been his home. 

And now, he feels homeless. 

His fingers move without much conscious thought. No one will be awake, he knows, but in reaching out, maybe he can just- maybe the weight will ease. It feels like it is crushing him, so isolated in a sea of no one who truly looked at him, truly saw him, truly accepted him as him. He swipes the passcode. He brings up the keypad, and hesitantly dredges one of the few numbers he knows by heart, learned in the excuse he would always need to know how to get in touch with the captain. Remembered from filling it in on so many forms _he_ didn't want to fill out, _Suga your handwriting is way neater than mine_ , not a compliment just truth. It rings and he watches it, the little phone icon shaking next to that name, a name attached to thousands of uncharted conversations and several recorded ones in text messages, and it isn't the first time and it won't be the last. 

It rings and it rings. He holds his breath, watching, watching, hoping, dreading the inevitable sound of that mechanical voice telling him there's no one awake on the other end, and he'll have to try someone else or just give up and go home, he doesn't want to, he can't, he doesn't really want to admit it but-

" _Uh, ngh?_ " 

Koushi needed him to pick up just then. 

He goes to speak, but his voice is trapped, croaky. He coughs. 

" _Suga? That you?_ " spills out of the phone, and he holds it closer to his ear and tries to deny how close he is to some sort of breakdown. A familiar voice should not do this to him. " _Suga?_ " Daichi repeats, puzzled. 

Koushi huffs a laugh that doesn't sit right at all. 

"Yeah. It's me, Daichi." He murmurs. He has no plan. No thoughts as to how this will turn out. He just needs someone, anyone who might understand right now. 

" _Hey, uh... What are you doing, phoning at one? Are you... Is something wrong?_ " 

_Yes and no_ , Koushi thinks to himself. 

"Not really. Just. Felt like saying hey." He intones instead, getting irritated. Can't he just be honest? He feels like crying. But he doesn't know how to say it. Doesn't know how to do it. 

There is a long silence on the line. 

" _What's up?_ " Daichi eventually asks, and there is a shuff of fabric moving, like he's sat up, and Koushi can imagine him frowning in thought. 

"Me, apparently." He returns, feeling no closer to a breakdown, but no further away either. It’s a fool’s errand. Hoping Daichi's voice would break him out of it. He doesn't know why he's phoned. "But you were asleep! Sorry, I should-" 

" _No!_ " snaps back down the line, its veracity stunning him. " _No, Suga, it's fine, believe me. What's up?_ " 

Koushi chews his lip. 

"Nothing really, I..." _wanted to hear your voice_ sounded incredibly trite, even if true. "... couldn't sleep." He finishes half-heartedly. 

" _If I'm honest, that's why it's bothering me. You like sleep._ " Daichi replies, and Koushi just has to laugh. In that mildly hysterical way that someone does when they feel like they are crumbling at their foundations and have no glue with which to stick themselves back together again. It is over-dramatic of course; he'll force the pieces of himself together and put on a front, but to keep going? 

He isn't sure he can. 

"Daichi I have no idea." He says, nigh on giggling. If he doesn't laugh he'll cry. If he cries he won't stop. Panic is an awful thing. "Why am I here? What am I doing?" 

Why is he pushing it onto Daichi at one in the morning? Koushi has classes tomorrow; sure as hell Daichi will too. 

" _Suga? Suga you're not okay, breathe._ " Daichi tells him firmly. " _Breathe._ " He repeats, and Koushi does just that, inhales as long as he can, and exhales slowly. He closes his eyes. Maybe if he does that he can pretend Daichi is here. He isn't even that far, but out of arm's reach feels like such a long way, he can't run that far and he can't reach- " _What's wrong? Where did that come from?_ " Daichi asks. 

"I don't know!" he whines. He doesn't. The feeling of unease has been there for days, but the panic and helplessness had snuck up on him within minutes, hours. Maybe he'd had more to drink than he'd thought? "I just- I was there, and then I couldn't, it doesn't make any sense..." 

" _Suga._ " Daichi says. Koushi nods, stupidly. His eyes are still closed, the glare of a nearby streetlight so much dimmer than stadium lights, too quiet too quiet- " _Suga, you're not at home, are you? Go home. I'll see you tomorrow._ " 

It takes a moment.  
"What? But you've got, _I've_ got-" 

" _By the sounds of it you need me. I care more about you than grades, Suga._ " Daichi says, wiping any remaining air from his lungs. 

Koushi hadn't realised he'd wanted that, needed that. He needs something familiar here. He keeps returning to familiar places, but nothing familiar is here, like he's been keeping it all separate. 

"Daichi you don't have t-"  
" _I want to._ " Is the short reply. 

Koushi recognises that it is his stubborn voice, the one that dares him to argue, that tells him that even if he does argue, Daichi has made up his mind. Knowing there’s nothing he can do to persuade him now, he sighs. He isn't really upset at the prospect, though. 

"Okay. Okay then. I'll be at home, waiting, Daichi." He presses a hand to his eyes, wiping at the wetness accumulating there, and shakily stands. "But, uh... Could you just... speak? Tell me about your day." Koushi requests shakily. Daichi hesitates for a second, but acquiesces; he maintains the chatter right up until Koushi is at his door, the neighbourhood deathly quiet and nobody awake in his apartment, either. 

" _I'll be there, Suga. As soon as I can._ " Daichi informs him. 

Koushi leans his head against the plastic door, and smiles wryly. 

"I'll wait." He murmurs, and does not realise the truth of it.

* * *

As soon as he can turns out to be seven in the morning. 

Koushi sleeps fitfully, as expected, the emotion and alcohol and tiredness running in his body not equating to any fit state of rest. A few of his flatmates had crashed in even later on than he had, and he'd listened to them fumble their way through the house, loud in that drunk way where they knew they ought not to be, but were unable to moderate their volume. In strobed sleep, he sees the day get brighter in slow motion, and knows he ought to be getting ready, that he is just being pathetic. 

There is a knock on his door. 

Koushi slides his eyes towards it. It can't be Daichi yet; the first trains from Saitama won't be getting in yet, and it is an awful long way to drive. He can't remember if it was Daichi or Asahi proclaiming about their new car in the chat. In Noya's excitement, it had all moved very fast. Besides, there is probably no one up to let him in. The only one who'd not gone out is Hayato, but he’s rarely up earlier than eight. 

"It's open, come in." He intones tiredly, not especially wanting to get up, but not quite rude enough to stay laying down. Going for a middle ground, he sits up, eyes stinging with less sleep than he needs. 

"I'm coming in, then." They responds, and Koushi feels his heart thud, because no way, it will be way, way later- 

But it is Daichi. He looks somewhere between happy and relieved, and Koushi blinks. 

"It's so early." He remarks. Daichi snorts, holding something in his hands up. 

Car keys.  
"I drove." Daichi says, before pocketing them again. "I was worried, Suga." 

The insecurities from last night ebb up again; they'd simmered down at some point during their phone conversation or in between the snapshots of sleep he'd captured. But they are hardly gone, and Koushi just needs some comfort. It is pathetic, and it is stupid, but he isn't above that. His best friend has just driven a long way to get to him. 

"Daichi," he croaks, and swings his legs out from under the covers. His feet hit the floor and he stands, watching Daichi's face fall into concern, and he hates to be the one to cause that, but he also hates feeling this way. Stumbling over, he crashes into Daichi with enough force to send him back a few steps, and flings his arms around him; Koushi presses his face into his shoulder, nose just above his collarbone. 

It feels familiar. It feels comforting. Like this, he can forget he’s in college, and away from them. He can pretend he’s back there, back in Karasuno, or at least with the team, and they had won the game and all he needs was to be away, even for a few seconds. 

Daichi encases him there, holds him closely. Ironically, it’s the least trapped he's felt in hours. 

Maybe some people would have thought it weird. It isn't like most men maintain any form of close contact for longer than necessary, but then, they've never quite been normal. 

Koushi doesn't care if those seconds are stretching far into awkward. He’s trying not to cry, to panic. He usually does this so easily, what is the problem? It feels like that set against Shiratorizawa, the immense pressure that had surfaced and started to suffocate him, the looks of the opposing team like they knew he was panicking. 

"Suga." Daichi murmurs. Koushi just holds on tighter. He has an urge to not let go. Maybe if he holds on long enough all these problems will melt away. "Suga." He repeats. 

"What?" He replies, voice muffled. Daichi flinches; Koushi wonders if he’s being unreasonable, or making him uncomfortable. Reluctantly, he pulls away, shuffling backwards. Daichi releases him, until he’s far enough away to put his hands on Koushi's shoulders, and stares at him intensely. 

"What's wrong?" He questions, and Koushi feels very stupid. 

"Well, I- I don't really- I don't know." He admits. Daichi raises an eyebrow, so he does his best to explain. "I don't know anybody here. I like my course, and I like the city, and it's all great and nice, but there's... It's not like Karasuno." 

He’s fully aware it explains nothing, but Daichi nods. Grinned even. 

"That last year was great, wasn't it?" 

Koushi nods. Seven in the morning. Hinata and Kageyama will be travelling to school, he can almost see them, fidgeting and waiting for the day to be over so they can practice. He wonders what the first years are like; whether Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are still teasing the other two about being simpletons. Whether Noya and Tanaka are still pining over Shimizu-san, now at university in Osaka. 

Probably. It makes his heart ache to think it, though. 

"Come on. Let's go." Daichi is saying. Koushi blinks at him. 

"Go where?" He’s going to miss his first class, he knows, and it will take some time to drive back to Saitama, so Daichi will miss at least the morning even if he does leave now. Somehow, that doesn't seem to be what he means. 

"Karasuno!" He says, like it’s so easy. "See how they're getting on. Tsukishima said some of the first years were pretty good. Or at least better than Hinata at receiving." 

"Like that's too difficult." He snorts. "Although he was getting better at not receiving with his face..." 

"It's sorted then. Get ready!" 

"Eh? Daichi, wait we can't-"

* * *

According to Daichi, they can. Koushi has to say he isn't against the idea, as Daichi sits downstairs drinking Koushi's tea supplies while he frantically throws things together. Guessing that if nothing else, he can spend the weekend at home and sort out travel back at a later point, he throws a change of clothes in. If they really do make it to the gym, they'll want him to practice, so he throws a track suit in, and his indoor trainers. Once he's done all that, thrown on a coat and wrapped a scarf loosely around his neck, he thunders downstairs. 

Daichi looks up from his tea, and smiles warmly. Koushi already feels better than he had; less empty. He wishes Daichi hadn’t gone so far away; that he'd stayed closer. That he'd asked Daichi to share an apartment with him. He wouldn't have minded Sendai with him there, but Daichi hadn't quite known where he'd wanted to go, or where he'd get in. There was also a matter of scholarships, which Daichi had been eligible for, and Koushi certainly hadn't. 

He is happy where he is. He just wishes he was closer to home. This is fine, and everything but- 

Something about Karasuno draws him back. He doesn't know what, and he doesn't know why, though. It wasn't like he'd overly felt it going home, and he'd not wanted to intrude on the school; he’s supposed to have left. Perhaps he hasn't deleted any of the numbers he has yet, even though he's not quite found a reason to text most of them. Hinata has texted a bit, but he isn't a person who is on their phone much. Yamaguchi sends pictures to them generally, often blurry and hard to decipher. They only make him hurt more, because he isn't a part of it anymore. 

He'd already been planning to go to every game he possibly could, but it won't be the same as watching it from the bench, and trying to figure out their opponents so they could beat them. 

"Ready?" Daichi asks, gulping down the remainder of his tea as he stands up. Koushi nods. 

So they get into his car. It is the first time for Koushi, none of their visits home quite matching up. He's seen Asahi a few times, but he lives closer, just about within a reasonable distance. Saitama isn't, really. 

"Haven't had it long. Forgive my driving!" Daichi jokes. The car itself looks to be in good condition, and there isn't much inside. The victory charm Michimiya had given Daichi is attached to his keys, and Koushi wonders how much they see of each other. 

"It'll be better than my driving," he returns. Koushi hasn't learnt yet. He doesn't really know why. He hasn't really needed to; he can get almost everywhere by train, or bus. The walking keeps him fit, anyway, in lieu of structured daily activity. 

"You haven't tried it." Daichi turns on the engine, the charm swinging as he does so. "You might be good at it!" 

Koushi snorts. He'd like to think he wouldn't be awful, but it’s still something he isn't sure he likes the sound of. Then again, there’s the feeling of freedom, of being able to travel without having to listen to other people. Being driven is quite relaxing, he supposes. Travelling in the minibus had always been fun, especially when they were all awake; even if Noya and Tanaka had been too loud and Ennoshita had to shut them up, even if Hinata and Kageyama started arguing about something inane. He recalls that there'd been a bus-wide jan-ken-pon competition that eventually had Coach Ukai pull the bus over and refuse to move until they'd stopped. 

"I'd have to try it to find out." Daichi is turning out of his street, weaving through the suburbs to reach a more major road; it'll take at least an hour to get to Karasuno, though. It must have taken even longer to get here from Saitama. "When did you set off, by the way?" He asks as the thought occurs to him. There must have been traffic, too. 

Daichi glances at him sideways.  
"Can we leave it at early?" He returns, notably uncomfortable. It doesn't fit, though. He's been so ready to go all this way, and Koushi knows it would be early. There isn't a way to get here from Sendai that fast, not driving. And he'd phoned at one, and then been on the phone for at least half an hour as he'd gotten home... 

"Five?" Koushi ventures. Daichi shakes his head. "Earlier?" 

He swears there’s a faint blush on his cheeks when he nods. 

"But... Why?" He asks, genuinely puzzled. Daichi had said that Suga had mattered to him, but that still- did he sleep? "Are you alright to drive? Should we take the train? You came all this way and we're just-" 

"Suga." Daichi says, just to cut him off. Koushi watches him, hands on the steering wheel, eyes set on the road, his face in profile looking determined. "Coffee solves a lot of problems." 

He isn't looking at Koushi, even when they pull to a stop at a crossing, an urban train rattling past slowly. Daichi is embarrassed. 

Koushi hopes he isn't regretting it. 

"We're staying the weekend there, alright? You're not driving back to Saitama again on no sleep." He remarks, and Daichi snorts, leaning forward and turning the radio on to some random station – drive time radio that Koushi never hears – and they fall into a silence, albeit a comfortable one. 

Koushi sort of wishes the journey won't have an end.

* * *

Daichi yawns as they pass into the town limits. Koushi is again reminded of what his little episode has deprived Daichi of, a full night's sleep and classes, slipping away from both of them, unexplained absences that he won't know how to explain in any satisfactory way. 

Selfishly, though, he’s pleased. He's missed Daichi, missed Karasuno. He’s glad that Daichi has made the effort, the thought of him at a corner store or a service area knocking back a black coffee to keep himself awake when by all rights he ought not to be, the simple thought makes him smile. 

"I thought you'd feel better being back." Daichi interrupts his thoughts, as Koushi realises he’s smiling inanely. He laughs nervously. 

"Yeah, I- Yeah." He says, unable to quite articulate his thoughts. He's been home before. It hadn't felt like this. It hadn't felt like _home_ , more like a place he'd known but moved on from. It had memories, but they were all tinged with regret that he couldn't still be a part of it. 

He'd felt more settled as soon as he'd spoken to Daichi on the phone, and more settled again seeing him, more calm and relaxed than he has any right to be considering the only thing that had changed-

Is Daichi's presence. 

It hits him that perhaps the emptiness isn't just simple loneliness, or nostalgia. He's not just been missing Karasuno. He's been missing Daichi's presence at Karasuno. He's been missing the level attitude and calm confidence of Daichi, been missing all the jokes, and scaring the first years, and the memories of the school with him. 

Koushi curses that they aren't at the same university. That they can't share an apartment. It feels like it should have happened, like he'd feel better with Daichi there, close enough to act as a rock, to tease him about all the stupidly spicy food he ate, to join a volleyball team with, to chat to whenever he wanted, face to face, rather than on a phone. Damn if he doesn't just want to be a little more attached to Daichi's life. He likes knowing what went on. He doesn't like the knowledge he can't fill because they live three hours apart; doesn't like not knowing the most stupid things, like how often he actually cooks, whether he has instant ramen half as much as Koushi does, whether he adds the oil first or the seasoning, whether he adds the whole packet or just half- 

Stupid things he'd never ask, would never think to ask, but he wants to know anyway. Wants to be there to observe Daichi's life. 

"Thanks." Koushi says, not stunned by the thought, but off kilter enough to know he ought not to say it. It doesn't feel like a whole revelation, but equally, it doesn't feel like something he should think about now. Instead, he points out the place with the really, _really_ spicy mapu tofu, and grins when Daichi promises they can go there for lunch.

* * *

With copious amounts of coffee for Daichi, tea for Koushi and a decent breakfast between them from one of the few places open and serving food, the small bakery is a piece of heaven. Daichi says Asahi had discovered it, of all people, considering how he quakes to go anywhere new, especially alone. Besides, it doesn't even seem close to Asahi's way home from school. 

Koushi is getting thoroughly lost in the atmosphere, a few small tables set up outside for any customers with some time. They are sitting there, several pieces of fresh bread between them, and watching students strolling to school. Daichi is telling him about his course, and Koushi isn't really listening but he is hanging off every word. It feels like a paradox, but he doesn't care what Daichi is saying, more that he’s talking and he’s talking to _him_ , voice unchecked by static or travelling down kilometres of phone lines to link them, he’s finally back within an arm's reach. 

Koushi has that free will of touch. He can punch Daichi. He can hug Daichi. He can ruffle his hair, he can do anything, because Daichi is right there and Koushi feels more settled than he's done in months. 

Daichi notices he isn't listening. He grins, not hurt.  
"Suga, you've totally zoned out. You're the one who needs sleep, not me!" He says, the tone teasing and light. 

"Says you with your double coffee! At least I'm not turning to caffeine. Since when did you do that, anyway?" Koushi returns, wondering about it. He doesn't really remember Daichi drinking coffee, not that he'd have known especially; he's never ordered it in a cafe or from a vending machine though. 

"Since I became a student and discovered black coffee?" Daichi remarks, taking a sip. Koushi wrinkles his nose. He'd tried coffee. Once. 

"Yuck. How do you even drink that." 

Daichi laughs. Koushi feels himself be somewhat captivated by it. 

"How do you even eat those chillies? Raw, Suga. That's weird." 

Koushi pouts, but only just maintains it. A smile keeps threatening to break through, like he is boundlessly happy here all of a sudden. His nerves and anxiety from the morning seem very far away. 

"I like them!" He returns, and feels somewhat victorious when Daichi laughs again. 

"And I like coffee." He states, and it is as much of an argument as they'll ever get into. They can agree to disagree; Koushi is starting to decide that he doesn't mind the smell of it as a background to Daichi. Deciding that he'll have to find out what types Daichi likes and keep them in the flat, for if – when, he won't let it go this long again – he visits again. "What are you smiling about?" 

Koushi blinks, caught out – again. He'd not even realised his face had split into a smile, natural as anything. He'd not had to think about it. 

"Oh, nothing. Say, want to go on a nostalgia trip?" 

Daichi snorts.  
"I thought that was the whole point?" He says, taking another sip of coffee. Koushi laughs, easily like he feels he hasn't in some time. 

"You dragged me out here! I didn't know there was a point." 

Daichi points out that he's not seen Koushi complaining. Unable to think of any decent retort, Koushi jabs him in the ribs, and scarfs the rest of his melon bread as Daichi wheezes.

* * *

They spend the morning lurking around town, visiting all the shops they always used to and reminiscing. Going into the bookshop and recalling the time Noya had thrown a book at Tanaka and very nearly for the whole lot of them kicked out. By the way the owner scowls at the two of them, she hasn't forgotten, and the two of them barely manage to leave without giggling. Going to Sakanoshita and chatting with Ukai, after the morning rush, bored and cleaning. Him accusing them of skipping, neither of them denying it; him saying he is glad to see them, and that they can come to practice later if they want to observe. The two of them grinning in a way that has Ukai guessing in a deadpan tone that even without the invitation, they would have interrupted. 

Meandering the morning away, they eventually land at the restaurant Daichi promised they'd visit earlier. Koushi eagerly orders the super spicy mapu tofu like he always used to, with extra chilli. Daichi looks at him like he doesn't get it, and orders a selection of small dishes. 

They get to discussing what's changed; the old store that sold nothing in particular has shut down, the shop lying vacant. A few new shops have opened up, some weird ones that have them both thinking they won't last. Changes in some of the houses, new gardens, new features. Things they'd ambiently noticed on their way home, things that seemed so constant, but the town is moving on without them there; like it should, really, but there’s a part of him that doesn't want anything to change from how he remembers it. Wants his memories to stay intact, and for visiting to feel like a time capsule. 

Except it never has, because he’s starting to recognise that he'd not just wanted the place to stay intact, but for him to be able to return to his life here, in high school. He’s happy where he is, and he enjoys college, but an undeniably large part of him wants to return here to how it had been only months ago. Less than a year ago, with the teammates he'd had and his easy walk home, early morning practices and late nights playing volleyball, walking home in the dark with Asahi and Daichi, splitting at the same intersection every time. Wondering what antics the lower years would be up to the next day, and the day after that. Not having to plan his life out for himself, letting himself take classes and practice. Life had been so easy. 

"Suga?"  
Koushi looks up; Daichi is watching him, puzzled and concerned. He flaps his hand to wave it off; he must have totally zoned out. 

"Just thinking. Do you think we'll really be able to get into the school? We don't have uniforms or-" 

Daichi is smirking. He looks eerily like a scheming Kageyama when he does that.  
"I have a plan." He says, in a way that suggests he won’t give any details up before he’s ready. "After all, what kind of college student are you if you don't break a few rules?" 

Koushi stares at him, nonplussed.  
"Ukai invited us to join. We're not actually breaking any rules, Daichi." He shrugs as though this is a minor point. As though he's not been looking forward to breaking in. "Although I guess we ought to look like we fit. If someone finds out and contacts the college..." He grimaces. 

"Exactly!" Daichi booms, pleased with himself, and how this apparently conveyed acceptance of the plan from Koushi. 

"Although we're both wearing dark trousers, with coats over the top it'll be hard to tell." Koushi points out. 

"Live a little, Suga." Daichi remarks, leaning back to let the serving lady place their food down in front of them. Koushi foregoes telling him that he sounds like Hinata, and chooses to eat instead; it tastes exactly how he remembers it, right down to the near painful burning of the extra chilli. He grins. Daichi shakes his head. "I do not get you, Suga." 

It is perfect.

* * *

Daichi's plan turns out to include grabbing his own uniform and sauntering onto campus. It isn't much of a plan, and Daichi's spare uniform, for some reason having been kept, is a little too big on him, but in its simplicity, it works excellently. No one looks at them twice as they stride over to the gym and peer around the door. 

The very smell of it is nostalgic, cleaning fluid and sweat and volleyballs, and the sound too; they've already started, and the thwack of spiking and impacts makes him ache with missing it all. Late night practices, the training camps, working so hard for something because he wouldn't dare let anyone take it away from him without a fight. 

"Just like old times, right?" Daichi murmurs to him, grinning widely when Koushi glances at him. His eyes are alight with glee and determination, the light he remembers thinking fit a captain very well, and makes him want to follow Daichi anywhere. 

"Yup." He muses, turning his head back to watch; no one has noticed them yet, all absorbed in it all, the start of an argument between Kageyama and Hinata, and a huddle of first years around Noya, idolising him, and Noya basking in it. Koushi can't help but laugh. It really is like old times; nothing much has changed, and yet somehow, that hurts. He'd always known he'd have to leave, always known they'd do well with or without him, but it’s a little bit jarring to see just how well they are doing without them, apparently seamlessly moving with the times and practicing new formations and training new first years to be a part of the team. 

Koushi had spent most of his third year games on the bench, for goodness sake. He knows he was valuable, but he also knows he isn't irreplaceable, and he can already see some of the first years latching on to techniques, and mentally he’s assigning them roles he thinks will fit them best, based on his observations. The taller one with hair a few shades less orange than Hinata, whom he’s already nicknaming Light Hinata, looks like he can move well as a defensive force. His reflexes are good, and the way he hangs around at the back, liking to keep an eye on everything, it just seems to fit. One at the side is rocking on his heels, watching Kageyama and Hinata intensely; Koushi can't tell who he’s watching more closely, but perhaps he is trying to parse the technique of setting, decipher how Kageyama does it so easily, so naturally- 

"Captain!"  
The yell cuts across his thoughts. Yamaguchi, having been speaking to Yachi, turned, and spotted them lingering by the door. Ukai nods at them cordially, smirking. Ennoshita looks puzzled until he sees Daichi, and then looks shocked. 

"Captain! Suga-san!" Hinata cries gleefully, bounding over to them, Kageyama scuttling after him. "You're back! Did you come to see us practice? You weren't going to just stay there all night, were you? Come on, get changed, you should teach the first years some tricks!" He fires off. Again, nothing has changed, Kageyama's face folding into a scowl. 

"Let them speak, dumbass. You ask too many questions." He snarks, Hinata glaring back at him. 

"Like you don't want to know!" 

"What _are_ you doing here?" Tsukishima interrupts the impending argument, and Koushi notices the first years looking somewhere between confused and awed. Some of them do, at least; others just look totally lost, and those are probably the ones who hadn’t joined because of Karasuno going to Nationals the prior year. 

He and Daichi share a look. Koushi doesn't quite know what to say; he doesn't really know himself. It had started with a meltdown in the city and got him here, his best friend sneaking them onto their old campus to play more volleyball. 

"Felt like dropping in." Daichi intones, easily. "Checking the new captain is doing alright." 

Ennoshita snorts.  
"I can deal with Tanaka and Noya, I can deal with a few first years." He says, but he’s smiling. 

"Are you joining us?" Yachi asks, curious; there is a wave of assent from the room, and Koushi is glad he'd packed his track suit, and brought it with him. 

"Well..." He starts, pretending to sound unsure. He looks at Daichi. "Dunno if we can, really..." 

Daichi grins, knowing what he’s doing, but not playing along.  
"Yeah okay. We'll be back once we've changed, then!" He announces. The gym resonates with yells, Hinata's and Noya's especially piercing. "No slacking off while you're waiting though!" 

There is a scrabble to do as he says, even from the first years; Daichi just has the attitude of a captain, apparently, and it hasn't worn off. Ukai is laughing, and Koushi finds himself doing the same as he follows Daichi to the club room, feeling totally at ease for once. 

He'll have to thank Daichi later. Perhaps he can pay for dinner.

* * *

Light Hinata turns out to be called Tomonari, and played setter in middle school; he seems more interested in the libero position though, as Koushi suspected, and he can practically see Noya puffing up with pride. The one who'd been watching Kageyama is called Nabetsu, and is by no means bad at setting, if somewhat outshone by Kageyama's talent for it. Koushi can understand the frustration, and makes sure to give him some pointers. 

The sun is way down once they finally finish, as it always had been, and Koushi feels exhausted. How had he always walked home after this without curling up on a pavement? How the hell does Hinata cycle back over a mountain? Koushi’s convinced he actually does have boundless energy. Nonetheless, despite the ache in his muscles promising further pain tomorrow, and punishment for not keeping quite so in shape, he and Daichi help clear up, and they saunter with the rest of them to Sakanoshita, Ukai begrudgingly giving them some leftover pork buns. The taste is stunningly familiar and nostalgic, just like everything else he's encountered; Daichi stands close to him as he eats his, immersing himself in the chatter and the dynamics of the group. Another first year, Yuuta, seems very interested in asking all sorts of questions of them, and Koushi is only too happy to reply. 

"You 'ere in the shame year as Djaichi, right?" Yet another first year pipes up through a mouthful of pork bun. Yachiru, if Koushi recalls correctly. Thankfully he swallows before continuing once Koushi nods. "What was he like in first year?" 

Koushi thinks back to the Daichi he met in first year. Not as sure of himself, but confident nonetheless. Determined. Wanting to make the most of his time, frustrated with the apathy in the volleyball club. Sometimes irrational, often competitive, always a friend. 

He thinks of Daichi, driving over in the early hours of the morning because Koushi had sounded upset and like he'd needed someone. 

Koushi smiles fondly.  
"Hasn't changed too much, really!" He says, grinning. "But I remember one time when he was racing the basketball capt-"  
"And that's enough of that!" Daichi interjects, smacking a hand over Koushi's mouth for a second. He can't shut them all up, though. The first years perk up with interest, and Tanaka grins viciously. 

"He set the fire alarm off to win!" Tanaka yells, and the first years gape at Daichi, who scowls, his cheeks going red. Koushi can't help but laugh at his look, the nostalgia and a really warm feeling in his chest making him feel lighter than air. 

“It wasn’t to win, it was an _accident_ ,” Daichi corrects huffily. Then ruins it by continuing to say, “But I did win, anyway.”  
"He got in so much trouble, don't any of you do that!" Ennoshita announces, although the first years hardly look perturbed. Hinata cackles.  
"And then we made it worse with the principal and his wig!" 

Daichi seems to give up as the tales spin away from him, although they get distracted with Kageyama chastising Hinata for all the times he's acted out. Tsukishima isn't here or he would have gladly joined in that, attacking both sides with sharp wit. Yamaguchi stirs trouble in his place. 

It's just like old times. He wants to grab onto it and hold on tightly, can barely believe he's even here. Delirious on so little sleep, it's going to his head. He takes Daichi's hand and squeezes it.  
"We had so much fun here, didn't we?" He asks over the raucous laughter at Hinata's spluttering. "I think I need to join a club again," he murmurs, leaning into Daichi, their hands behind them. 

When Daichi doesn't really say anything other than hum unconvincingly, Koushi glances over, and finds his face to be very flushed.  
"Are you alright? Have you got a fever? I knew driving all that way couldn't good-"  
"I'm fine, Suga," Daichi mutters, his voice low. Behind him, Koishi notes Ennoshita looking their way, averting his eyes when they catch Koushi's. 

Koushi takes his hand from Daichi's and feels his own forehead with one, and Daichi's with the other. Daichi feels a touch hot, although he's seemed largely fine all day, so...  
"Are you sure?" He tilts his head, puzzled. Daichi reaches up and grabs his wrist to remove Koushi's hand from his forehead, and offers him a smile. It looks more like a grimace.  
"Positive." Daichi drops his hand. "I need to talk to Nishinoya, excuse me," he mutters, and strides off to the other side of the group. 

Koushi just pauses, bewildered. Such odd behaviour. It only confuses him more when Ennoshita, catching his eye again, smiles coyly and winks at him before turning back to Nabetsu. 

What... just happened?

* * *

The group eventually disperses, encouraged by Ukai, flapping his hands and hissing that they all have families and dinners to return to rather than lurking outside his store being too loud. 

Daichi reunites with him once they all shuffle off, wishing them well and hoping they'll both return. The night seems too quiet without them, and Koushi is still caught up on what happened earlier. He didn't get a decent chance to question Ennoshita on his reaction, and it's still whirling around in his mind. Daichi still seems to have a flush to his cheeks when they start towards the Sawamura household. 

Koushi follows along a pace behind Daichi, immersed in thought. 

He thinks back to the start of this, many hours ago, him feeling so lonely and removed it was choking him, him phoning Daichi in his desperation for something familiar. Why had he done that? Why had Daichi driven all the way over here just for him? 

And just what is this fondness that pools in his chest when Daichi smiles at him? Just what is this, exactly? 

He watches Daichi’s back in the streetlights for a second, how it looks just as comforting to him as it did back then, looking like he could take the weight of the world for a moment to give Atlas a rest, because he’s kind enough to do that too. He watches his hair, ruffling in the breeze. He watches the way that he walks, the way his muscles shift, more prominent now, the cadence of his footsteps, his hands shoved into his pockets. How many times did they walk home together and Koushi never watched him this much, but he’s fascinated. 

But there are things he’s missed; there’s a scrape on Daichi’s leg, unknown origin. There were keyrings on his car keys Koushi doesn’t know about. He’s getting caught up in the small details of Daichi’s life that he just doesn’t know, and drowning in them. Why are they so important? How many times has he idly thought about what Daichi has been up to, how many times has he thought of phoning Daichi then being cautious of distracting him, and texted instead? 

How much has he missed? And why, why does it bother him, he’s never wondered about Asahi or anyone else quite this much, only Daichi. 

And here hadn’t felt like home until arriving with Daichi, but the absence that curled up against his heart is- 

Gone? 

There’s no ache. There’s nothing there, except there is, isn’t there? A warm glow, that grows when he’s around Daichi, something he recognises from Karasuno, and nigh on three years in that glow had blinded him to the effects of being without it. He’s been in withdrawal, missing these things and thinking he was only missing home, which is part of it, but a bigger part is Daichi, has always been Daichi-

His brain feels like he’s found the key to an elaborate lock, something hidden from him for years now. The latches shift, gears turn, and the thoughts whirl around, coalescing until a hurricane that dumps the revelation on him, that he’s- 

He is-  
He’s in love with Sawamura Daichi. 

He stops dead in the middle of the path, deaf to the world. 

_That’s_ what’s been going on. He loves Daichi, and that’s why he’s felt so lost without him. How did he not realise, how did it even take this long? 

But before he can ask himself what to do about this, in the midst of his shock, Daichi realises he’s stopped, and turns to face him. 

“Suga?” he asks, poor sweet beautiful hot amazing kind devious glorious Daichi who Koushi fell in love with somewhere along the way and _didn’t realise for three years_. 

He’s not thinking, not with his brain. His brain looks on, so stunned by the revelation that it doesn’t activate self-control, or second-thoughts, when he opens his mouth and says:

“I’m in love with you.” 

Koushi watches in minute detail as Daichi blinks. His eyes widen, he leans back slightly. His mouth opens, then shuts. Koushi’s brain is still on hold, and it doesn’t consider rejection or what any reaction means at all. It simply watches, in free-fall and no longer able to process.  
“Really?” Daichi murmurs, disbelieving. Koushi nods, unguarded. 

What else to do, when you have just told someone you love them at the very moment you yourself realised it? 

A rush of breath – Daichi exhales heavily, as though he’s just been underwater, coming up for air. His lips turn up and up, until he’s grinning, and Koushi’s heart stutters. 

“Oh thank God.” He takes a step closer. His cheeks have gone red again, and he flits between glancing askance and at Koushi. “I thought- well, never mind.” He takes another step, takes another breath. “I’ve… really liked you for a long time now, so I-” Continuing forward, he ends up right in front of Koushi, looking down the minimal distance between them, and his voice falters. “Can I, uh… Can I kiss you?” he asks. 

Koushi doesn’t respond other than to hook his hands around Daichi’s neck and pull him in. 

Koushi has kissed a few people. Not unwillingly, but none of them would have been his first pick, and he could never work out why. They’d never quite felt right, and he’d chalked it up to not being in the mood, them being bad at kissing – which a few had been – or the fact that he’d not liked them enough. 

Now, he thinks Daichi has always been his first pick, even without him knowing it. Suddenly, all those dreams he’d not quite remembered make sense. Suddenly, things come into focus, pieces fit into place, and puzzles he’d never known about start to solve themselves. 

Kissing Daichi doesn’t feel like kissing anyone else. Kissing Daichi feels _right_ , feels like it was meant to be this way. Kissing Daichi feels simultaneously like fireworks and like a cozy night on a beach watching the sunset. It makes him feel full and content in myriad different ways. 

He shuffles closer, pressing his body to Daichi’s to stop himself leaning, and feels like he’s always fit there, like it’s a home he’s never found before. He feels settled, like he’s been out at sea and has only just stepped onto solid ground. Daichi weaves his arms around Koushi and settles his hands on Koushi’s lower back, the heat of them radiating pleasantly. 

Koushi wants to stay like this forever. Of course, the moment he thinks it, he realises that no matter how good it feels, he requires air, and drags himself backwards just a little. Daichi follows him before they break apart, and he is the first thing Koushi sees when he opens his eyes again to a new world. Daichi’s eyes are soft and dark, and Koushi thinks he’d be happy if they were the last thing he ever saw. 

“Why now?” Daichi whispers, his breath brushing over Koushi’s lips. Koushi can’t help but snort, smile growing wider.  
“It’s kind of a funny story, but I only just realised,” he remarks.  
“Only just?” Daichi asks, incredulous. “You mean I get to pine for three years hoping you notice and feel the same, and you only just realised?” 

Three years. Three years, Koushi could have had this and didn’t because he’s taken this long. Curse everything. He needs to make up for lost time.  
“Well, sometimes you just need a knight in shining armour to drive over to your house and take you home because you needed him, but you didn’t know why, and then you just-” Koushi shrugs. “Pin things together and finally get that you’ve been in love with him for ages and that’s why you felt so empty!” 

Daichi levels him an admonishing look. “You are hopeless,” he remarks. Koushi snorts, and buries his head into Daichi’s shoulder.  
“Yeah, pretty much. I’m pretty though, so all’s forgiven, right?” He feels Daichi rest his chin on his shoulder, and lean his head into Koushi’s.  
“Even if you weren’t,” he murmurs, reverberating pleasantly through Koushi’s bones. He’s going to miss this when he goes back – but that doesn’t have to be yet. “We’re never leaving it this long again, Suga.” 

Koushi nods. Eventually, they’ll separate, and go back to the Sawamura household. Eventually, they’ll both have to go back to their respective universities, but- he’s going to make more effort. He can get on trains, he can see where Daichi lives now, he can see where he makes his ramen and how, and he can be there. 

He’d rather not have had the late night meltdown, but if this is the result, he thinks he can live with it. As they walk off down the road hand-in-hand, Koushi thinks that, at the very least, it can be a funny story with a happy ending. 

Which is, of course, the best kind of funny story.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it! This is a WIP I've finished for my little project to finish 12 WIPs this year, and post them! Who knows how this is going to go, but we'll see, and I hope you can join me for the journey!  
> This fic basically came about because I wanted to write someone blurting out 'I love you' without thinking about it!


End file.
